


The Trouble with Television

by afewmistakesago



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, but it ends w/ cuddling so, i guess, they argue a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 16:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5213264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afewmistakesago/pseuds/afewmistakesago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anonymous asked:<br/>if you're still taking these: you’re in the hospital bed next to me and we fight over what to watch on the shared tv au for rumbelle :)<br/>Follow up to The Bear and The Bow. If you haven't seen that episode, Rumple was just knocked around by a bear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trouble with Television

She’d decided the thick silence and the beeping of various monitors was unbearable, needing a distraction from the person she wasn’t sure how to talk to anymore. Grabbing the clicker, she turned on the television in their shared room, flicking from sports, game shows, reality tv - and landing on HGTV. She glanced to the bed across the room from hers, seeing that his eyes were closed. He was sleeping. Good. Her former lover needed the rest after what they’d just encountered. Jonathan Scott was convincing a couple they could love their old home, and Belle settled back in her bed, watching the young couple fret about whether a third bathroom was a necessity.

 

There were only two of them, so why did they need three bathrooms? The woman on the screen revealed she was pregnant, and Belle suddenly felt more hollow than before. She’d once dreamed of a family, but was it even responsible to bring a child into the crazy world she lived in? Storybrooke certainly wasn’t where she had ever pictured raising a child, and she couldn’t leave the town because _nobody_ could leave the town.

 

Her thoughts rarely drifted to before the first curse, but being back in the hospital reminded her of her time trapped in it’s basement, when her thoughts were thoughtless and the world was black and white. She didn’t have an identity, just a cell and a blanket. It was constantly in the back of her mind - Belle began to feel anxiety grow in her stomach, her teeth clenching - she looked out the window of the room, seeing the hospital staff running around. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that she was fine, she would get to leave soon -

 

Belle’s thoughts were interrupted by a snarky voice. “Could you turn this drivel off?” her ex-husband called, sitting up and looking at her.

 

Belle  frowned. “Is this not entertaining enough for you?”

 

“It’s pointless,” he said. “They always list.”

 

“They do not!” Belle said defiantly, “I’ve watched loads of this show and it’s an even divide.”

 

He glared at her, rolling his eyes. “Toss me the remote,” he said, reaching his hand out. She grabbed the remote from her shelf, keeping it close to herself. Belle wasn’t sure why changing the TV channel had just become critical, or why this was the first conversation they were having without death at their doorstep, but -

 

“Belle, please,” he said. “There has to be something less idiotic.”

 

“They’re not idiots,” Belle insisted, waving her hand at Jonathan and Drew. “They’re very handsome men who are skilled at their jobs.”

 

“Handsome,” Rumple snorted, eyeing the screen suspiciously. Was he jealous? “You’re the one who insisted we come to the hospital, I should get to chose what we watch.”

 

“You got hit by a bear,” Belle reminded him, rolling her eyes. “Besides, you also said you knew not to argue with me.”

 

“Certainly,” he said, “And when Whale wanted to check your vitals, too, you shouldn’t have tried to argue with him.

 

Belle sighed, crossing and uncrossing her legs on the long bed. When Whale had seen the bags under her eyes, and the unusually pale tone her skin had taken, he’d insisted she’d get checked for exhaustion.

 

“I spent a lot of time watching TV after I - when you were -” Belle said, trying to change the subject but stumbling on the right phrase to use. Rumple looked over at her, his expression unreadable. “When I was in New York,” he finished.

 

“Yeah,” Belle said softly. “This channel helped me figure out how to redecorate the apartment over the library.”

 

He began to say something, then stopped himself. After a moment of just them staring at each other, he said quietly, “So that’s where you’ve been living, then?”

 

She nodded, exhaling slowly. Archie had taught her this - breathing techniques for when she felt like she might panic. The door to their room suddenly opened, and Dr. Whale burst in. “Hello, love birds,” he said, his voice sing-song. Belle cringed at the nickname, remembering what she’d told Merida just hours previous. _He is not my sweetheart._

 

“Belle, your initial exams look fine, but you’re dehydrated, just like I thought. We’re going to give you fluids overnight and you’ll feel better,” the doctor said, nodding as a nurse hooked Belle up to some machine. “Mr. Gold,” he said, turning to the man watching Belle’s arm, “You were very lucky. It doesn’t seem like the uh, bear, gave you a concussion. Just some scrapes. We’re going to give you painkillers for your ankle, but you’ll be free to go.”

 

“I don’t need to stay overnight,” Belle said immediately, wriggling in her hospital bed. “I’m not sick,” she insisted when Dr. Whale gave her a questioning look.

 

Really, Rumple was the reason she’d insisted they’d come over. He’d faced a bear, for God’s sake, and she wanted to make sure he was truly okay.  “You’re staying,” Rumple said softly, and Belle leaned forward, seeing how serious he looked. She finally nodded, breaking eye contact with him. Dr. Whale looked between them, then said he’d return in a few minutes with the medication for Rumple.

 

With him gone, Belle turned her attention back to the television. The couple decided to list it.

 

“I told you,” Rumple said quietly, and Belle glared at him. She finally relinquished control of the remote, tossing it over to him. He smiled at her, then flipped to the food network.

 

“Seriously?” Belle said doubtfully, “The food channel? How is this better than HGTV?”

 

“When you’re cursed for 28 years, you learn to cook really well,” he said, nodding at the television. “That judge is extremely harsh. She’s going to get points off for plating.”

 

The man on the TV made a scathing mark about the tearful contestant’s plating, and Rumple smirked. Belle felt sympathy for the contestant, pointing out, “Cooking is hard, Rumple.”

 

“My dear, just because you can only cook toast and cereal doesn’t mean it’s hard,” he said, then winced at the end of his sentence. It was true, though, she was a terrible chef. She’d relied on him when she woke up at the end of the first curse, and relied on her friends and the local eateries when she felt like eating after that.

 

“I suppose,” she said glumly, and they grew silent again, watching the contestants scramble to make a dessert with cotton candy, bananas, and pumpkin seeds. Belle knew what she would’ve made with that in her cabinet - a take out order.

 

The show ended, and the next program came on - a special about wedding cakes. Belle stiffened, looking over at Rumple, who was looking at her. Despite the circumstances, Belle still maintained she’d had a beautiful wedding. There’d been no cake, there’d been no guests besides a former cricket and her father, but it was perfect them. The memory refused to be tainted, despite the insecure memories that surrounding it.

 

“I wasn’t lying,” he said softly. It was barely audible, and Belle turned to look at Rumplestiltskin.

 

“I wasn’t lying when I said I’d do it all again,” he continued, his voice a bit louder. “I want to do it all again for you, Belle, want to be someone you can be proud of. I want to be your hero.”

 

She nodded then, feeling tears rush to her eyes. It was all too overwhelming, finding him in the library, that Merida girl, the bear, and the Dark One’s basement. She began to cry quietly, and he looked panicked, but when he got out of his bed and tried to leave the room, she held out her arms.

 

“Just hold me,” she said between her sniffling sobs. “Just hold me, and we can act like it’s all okay tonight. Just tonight,” she said, convincing herself. Her former husband didn’t need to be told twice, and he eyed her bed warily, gently avoiding the wires that the nurses had attached to Belle. She adjusted herself as to where her head was resting on his shoulder, his arms around her waist. He was warm. He smelled like she remembered, like the shirt that she kept in the back of her apartment closet for days that felt too lonely. And he was okay.

 

“Do we have to keep this show on?,” she asked quietly, giggling as he frowned at her. Tonight they could argue over silly things, but tomorrow they could talk about reality.


End file.
